


Yuri vs. Babysitting

by LittlebutFiery



Series: Parenting on Ice [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: (both the relationships are super minor), Babysitting, Fluff, M/M, baby!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 16:57:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9394595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: Yurio (and by extension, Otabek) tries his hand at babysitting. It doesn't go well.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what I'm doing when it comes to writing Otabek, so please forgive me if he's OOC.

“We’ll be back just past ten,” Viktor said while Yuri stared at his phone, uninterested. “Yurio, are you listening to me?”

“ _Da,_ Dad,” Yuri scowled. “I’m watching your baby for a couple hours, it can’t be that hard.”

“Make sure you feed her _right_ at seven,” Yuuri said, walking into the room with Lidiya in his arms. “Her formula is in the fridge. She shouldn’t need much else except diaper changes…her changing table is in the nursery, and her diapers are right under it…”

“Chill out,” Yuri huffed. “Do you want me to watch her, or not?”

“I’m sure Yurio will be just fine,” Viktor smiled, putting an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “We should head out soon, or we’re going to miss our reservation.”

“Enjoy your date night, geezers,” Yuri said as he gently took his “niece” from Yuuri’s arms.

“We’ll be sure to put lots of pictures on Instagram so you don’t miss anything!” Viktor teased. Yuri rolled his eyes.

They were almost out the door when a thought hit Yuri. He called after them, “Hey, can I invite Otabek?”

“What?” Yuuri asked, surprised.

Yuri’s face turned scarlet, so to hide his embarrassment he snapped, “Look, I don’t care one way or another. I just wanted to invite Beka so I’m not stuck here all night with your lame baby.”

Viktor laughed. “Looks like we aren’t the only ones having date night, _luchik!_ ”

“It’s not a date!” Yuri insisted angrily.

“That’s fine,” Yuuri said, trying to placate the younger man. “Of course we don’t mind.”

“No making out on the couch!” Viktor added as Yuuri started to push him outside. “Or at least not in front of Lidiya!”

“I hate both of you!” Yuri yelled as the door closed behind the pair of idiots he had somehow agreed to babysit for.

He plopped down on the couch, turning on the TV and texting Otabek with his free hand while the other still carefully held Lidiya to his chest.

_YP: Want to hang out? I’m babysitting for Pork Cutlet Bowl and Viktor and I’m already bored._

_OA: Just text me the address and I’ll be there._

Yuri sent the address and leaned back, trying to suppress the rush of excitement that he felt at getting to see Otabek for the first time in over a week.

Lidiya giggled and reached for Yuri’s phone, trying to pull it from his grasp with fat, clumsy little fingers. Yuri sighed, tugging it from her reach. She immediately went into shrieks and tears, so he sighed again and gave her the phone. Instantly, Lidiya started giggling again, slobbering all over a corner of the phone. 

Addicted to technology just like Viktor, Yuri thought with a smirk. Like father, like daughter.

It was almost seven when Otabek finally arrived, so Yuri greeted him with a sullen, “You can put on a movie. I have to feed Lidiya.”

Otabek walked with him to the apartment’s kitchenette, watching with more than a little amusement as Yuri tried to wrestle with the bottle of formula one-handed. The older man asked, “Do you want me to hold her, Yura?”

“Please,” Yuri nodded, desperate to have the use of both his arms again. He handed Lidiya to Otabek and began to fight with the bottle once again.

After a bit more struggling, Yuri had finally transferred the formula to Lidiya’s bottle and turned to take her back from Otabek.

He was more than a little struck both by how adorable Lidiya looked, giggling in Otabek’s arms, and how handsomely domestic Otabek looked holding a baby. Yuri’s face turned scarlet again from the unwanted thought, so he grumbled, “I need her back so I can feed her.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be warm?” Otabek asked instead, nodding at the bottle of cold formula in Yuri’s hand.

“Babies are too much work,” Yuri scowled, heading for the microwave. He glanced down at the bottle – which said in big red Cyrillic letters “DO NOT MICROWAVE” – and sighed yet again.

“Try running it under warm water,” Otabek suggested, looking more than slightly amused by Yuri’s struggle.

Almost ten minutes later, the three were back on the couch, Lidiya happily attached to the now carefully warmed bottle. Yuri allowed himself to lean his head on Otabek’s shoulder, saying, “Thanks for coming over, Beka. I probably would’ve gone crazy by myself.”

“Maybe next time you should reconsider babysitting,” Otabek replied, the faintest smile on his face. “But you’re welcome. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Yuri turned crimson again, focusing instead on Lidiya, who had just finished her bottle. He set the bottle down on the endtable and adjusted Lidiya in his lap.

The little girl looked up at him and smiled before throwing up on his shirt.

Yuri promptly panicked.

“Holy fuck, is she okay?” Yuri howled, picking Lidiya up and holding her at arm’s length. “What’s wrong with her? Fuck, I’m going to have to call Viktor!”

Otabek was trying to stifle a snort of laughter. “It’s okay, Yura.”

“Okay? Pork Cutlet Bowl is going to fucking kill me! I got his precious little gross baby sick! And now I have puke all over my favorite shirt!” Yuri exclaimed.

“We can wash your shirt once she’s feeling better,” Otabek assured him.

“But what if she doesn’t?” Yuri continued, voice growing louder. “Fuck, they’re going to kill me! I killed their baby!”

“She’s fine now,” Otabek insisted calmly, taking Lidiya out of Yuri’s increasingly tight grip. “How about you call them?”

Yuri had his phone out and Viktor’s number up in a flash. It took thirty full seconds – Yuri counted – for Viktor to finally answer with a slightly slurred, “Yes, Yurio?”

“Lidiya’s sick!” Yuri cried into the phone. “I fed her and she puked all over me!”

There was a long, angry silence before Yuri realized that instead of angry breathing, he was hearing Viktor snicker into the phone. He yelled, “You’re not taking this seriously, old man!”

“I am,” Viktor chortled. “Have you never read anything about babies? You burp them after you feed them, and sometimes they spit up. That’s all.”

Now the long silence was on Yurio’s end of the phone. He eventually managed weakly, “What?”

“She’s perfectly fine. Don’t worry,” Viktor laughed. “There’s detergent on the shelf above the washer. Go wash your shirt. You can borrow one of mine, although I doubt Otabek will mind you shirtless.”

Yuri hung up, glaring daggers at his phone.

“Well?” Otabek prompted.

“Apparently it’s normal,” Yuri mumbled, feeling humiliated for his gross overreaction.

Otabek offered a small smile. “Everything’s fine. Let’s get your shirt washed.”

Not long later, Yuri’s shirt was in the wash and they were back watching TV. Out of spite, Yuri had purposely picked Viktor’s favorite shirt in case Lidiya threw up on him again.

“Hey, Beka?” Yuri said as they watched whatever stupid show was on – he hadn’t really been paying attention.

“Yeah?” Otabek asked.

“Thanks for coming over,” Yuri blushed a little, avoiding Otabek’s eyes as he spoke. “I probably would’ve freaked out worse if you weren’t here. Sorry for that, by the way.”

“I thought it was cute how much you care about Lidiya,” Otabek replied simply.

Out of impulse, Yuri leaned up and kissed Otabek’s cheek, his cheeks now red as fire. Otabek paused, startled, before kissing the top of Yuri’s head. 

Yuri smiled down at Lidiya, who was squirming in his lap. Maybe, just maybe, he could see the appeal blissful domesticity had for Yuuri and Viktor.

**Author's Note:**

> Have a prompt you want to see filled, or an idea for this series? Head on over to littlebutfiery.tumblr.com and I'll be happy to try my hand at it!


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